Page 22 of Sold to the Bikers

Animal leans in, nuzzling my neck. "He's going to make you fucking scream."

"Again?"

They just laugh. Animal moves up to kiss me, Badass moves down to my breast, and Quickshot dives in.

Oh Christ almighty.

Quickshot’s long tongue slips inside me, and even though I was convinced they couldn't make me come again so soon, I’m pretty sure he's about to prove me wrong.

Animal kisses like I'm the only woman he'll ever want, while Badass worships my body, kissing, licking and touching me everywhere.

And if they weren't enough, Quickshot's tongue is magic. I mean, the others drove me over the edge easily, but three times? I’ve never even done that on my own. I can't really see exactly what he's doing, but his tongue is moving fast and sure over and around my clit and it doesn’t take long before the surge is rising again, building up inside me like a volcano getting ready to blow.

If this is what being with them would be like, I'm not sure I could survive. Like, I think I might explode. Literally explode.

My breathing turns into gasps and my fingertips dig into Badass's back and Animal's arm as I cling to them for dear life.

"I told you he'd make you fucking scream," says Animal.

I haven't yet, but I'm close. How soundproof are these apartments anyway? Is anyone passing by going to hear what's going on? Why is that only making it more exciting? It would be better for our cover, right? If everyone could hear.

I should be mortified, but my sharp breaths turn into throaty moans as Quickshot slips his hands under my ass to lift my hips and give him better access. His dexterous tongue is everywhere at once—inside me, sliding through my folds, wrapping around my clit. There's no way in hell I could ever make my vibrator do this.

"Come for us, baby girl," growls Badass. "Scream so everyone in the clubhouse hears you. Show them what a naughty little girl you are." He bites the side of my breast, then kisses it better. "You're fucking amazing."

He's ordering me to come, so I can't help but obey. As Quickshot sucks my clit into his mouth and flutters his tongue around it, Badass sucks my nipples and caresses my belly, and Animal kisses me senseless and plays with my other nipple, I erupt.

They get their scream, and then some, as I come at least as hard as last time, and probably even harder. Quickshot's tongue is relentless, and I squeeze my thighs around his head like that'll make him slow down in any way. I think my nails draw blood as I dig into Badass and Animal's flesh.

I cling on to them and ride the orgasm for all it's worth. This is it. I've reached the peak. There's no way I'll ever come like that again.

I slump back against the mattress, out of breath and every muscle turned to jelly.

When Quickshot comes up for air, his face is glistening, but he's smiling. "I knew you fucking had it in you."

I draw a breath, swallow, let it out, then draw another before I even try to use any air for words. "You should have to register that tongue…" Breathe. "Register that tongue as a lethal weapon."

His smile widens. "What makes you think I fucking haven't?"

13

QUICKSHOT

Women are never fucking simple.

Sure I like the way Natalie feels on the back of my bike, clinging to me with those tits pressed into me, but it’s been one day and I’m already running errands like she’s our fucking old lady.

Apparently she doesn’t want to keep running around in borrowed clothes, and even though I wouldn’t mind keeping her naked, she wants bras that fit and all that fucking shit. We need to make it obvious that she’s ours and not just one of the sluts.

I guess if King and the others can keep their women happy, I’m not going to let us look like the assholes who can’t.

Her apartment’s in a shit area of town. Technically South Side, but right up on the edge of Blackworth. Fucking Mafia territory. Not long ago it would’ve been a death wish to live here, but since we struck a truce with the Giordanos—and more importantly, Alessa started fucking the Cleanup Crew—it’s been getting better. There’s even some businesses moving in and their front windows are intact. Mostly.

Natalie dares to let go just long enough to point over my shoulder at a run-down apartment building, and then her fingers are back to digging into my jacket. When she gets off the bike, she’s shivering like a leaf.

“You cold, babe?”

“It’s not that.” She looks up the steps to the front door like she's dreading going into her own fucking place.